Letter From Kireka: Why Kony’s days are numbered

Sunday September 2 2012



By Don Wanyama

You must have heard the great news. In a furious contest with the Lord’s Resistance Army rebels this week, our army dealt the merchants of evil a devastating blow. Our gallant men and officers made a significant gain: they captured solar panels belonging to LRA rebel leader Joseph Kony.

Some of you might not know how critical this gain is but let me explain. In the jungles of the Democratic Republic of Congo, solar panels are such an important military tool. As you might know, most of DR Congo has no electricity despite having one of the biggest hydro-power dams. This means the load-shedding that Kampala people cry about when it happens once in a fortnight is something Kony has come to live with most of his rebel life.

In the absence of electricity, these solar panels were the only source of power for Kony and group. It was from the power produced by these solar panels that Kony and his commanders were able to recharge their satellite phones, which would help them keep in touch as they eluded fire from our UPDF boys. Also, these solar panels would offer light in the deep of the night as Kony escaped possible arrest and the snares built for him. It was this light that would help him check the skies and see our helicopters approaching, before ducking just minutes before we struck his base.

Now, all this is gone. Kony is a man in darkness. He cannot charge his satellite phone. His commanders equally are stuck with battery-less phones. Kony can’t issue directives and commands to his men on the frontline. He can’t see our helicopters approaching in the dead of the night. He is a cornered man.

And just to remind you, this is not our only significant catch in this war against these men who wreak havoc against our innocent civilians. Our military has in the past hit at the heart of Kony’s resistance. A few years ago, our men of valour attacked Kony’s base, missing him just by minutes. The rebel leader was in a make-shift bathroom when he was alerted. He took off naked, leaving his Kaunda suit and bathing sponge, which we quickly captured. Today, these are some of the exhibits we keep as we await to present him before the International Criminal Court to faces charges of genocide and crimes against humanity.

Having dispossessed the lunatic of his adored Kaunda suit, we did not give up. In another raid in Garamba, he survived our UPDF gunships just by seconds. As our men turned the nozzles in his direction, the chap sprinted in a manner that would shame Usain Bolt and make Stephen Kiprotich look like a snail. But we were not without victory. Kony might have escaped but we managed to capture key ingredients of his struggle. Our men and officers impounded Kony’s guitar, jerrycans, saucepans and underwear.


One can therefore picture what state Kony is in now. He is a man without light. He has been plunged into darkness. He can’t see where he is headed. As if that is not enough, he no longer has the guitar to serenade him during his stressful moments. You remember King Saul in the Bible and how music helped calm him? Kony does not have that luxury. In brief, he is now a stressed and probably demented man.

But what is more important is his physical state. We have his underwear and suit in our custody. Kony is a nude man. How will he survive the chilling conditions in the jungles without clothing? How will he survive the cold of Virunga and such forests if his source of warmth and heat—the solar panels—are no more?

The fact that we also made off with his jerrycans and saucepans means he must be having trouble preparing meals and porridge for his men. The beauty in this dilemma is that Kony must have now resorted to eating raw antelopes and baboons. He can’t boil them. And don’t we all know that these apes in the Congo are the harbours of Ebola and related viruses? It is a sure deal now that if our bullets do not make Kony history, then Ebola or some such calamity will sort him out.

The struggle against forces of darkness is always protracted and painful. There is, however, no doubt that by capturing Kony’s solar panels, our army has made another significant stride in this struggle. A man with no bathing sponge, no underwear, no Kaunda suit, no guitar, no jerrycans, no saucepans—is not a man. He is a marked target and will soon be dealt with. Kony’s days are indeed numbered.